


Stitch Me in Lace

by messofthejess



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Honeymoon, Lingerie, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messofthejess/pseuds/messofthejess
Summary: It's a miracle they make it into their hotel suite after their wedding, to be honest.





	

            Marie wouldn’t be so antsy right now if her husband (!!!) hadn’t kept his massive hand firmly locked on her thigh throughout the entirety of the wedding reception. His fingertips had pressed in gently, massaging while she received string after string of congratulations from the guests, including a ten-minute oratory from Stein’s mother, who eventually had to be escorted away because she devolved into happy sobs that her boy had _finally_ found a sweet girl like Marie to settle down with. Stein had gotten especially handsy when Kami came up to offer some well wishes. He’d seized that moment in particular to pull Marie in for a deep kiss, complete with tongue, all to make his childhood rival splutter and storm off, cursing under her breath.

            And _then_ , damn him, he had to be Mr. Cool Cucumber the whole time they were on the plane to Honolulu. Kid’s wedding gift to them was a honeymoon to Hawaii, complete with the Academy’s private jet for transportation, and Marie had had more than half a thought to tell the staff to hang out in the back while she climbed Stein like a tree and rode him to the horizon. But no, she kept her legs firmly crossed under the puffy white skirt of her wedding dress and read through the stash of _Skymall_ magazines (bless Kid for his attention to authenticity, she guesses?) and pointedly ignored Stein’s sideways gaze for the entire six-hour flight.

            It was a very long six hours.

            Only after they’d checked in at the front desk and made the painstaking and silent ride up the elevator—Kid had to get them the penthouse, he insisted—did she even dare to brush hands with him. Stein swept her up in his arms immediately, cradling her bridal-style as he carried her across the threshold into the penthouse. Marie’s inner little girl was positively squealing at the romantic gesture, something she’d fantasized about since she was five and playing with Barbies, but the woman in her wanted her husband to quell the ache between her thighs now, now, now. She lunged up and kissed him hard, wrapping her arms around his neck with a ferocity that made him very nearly lose balance.

            “Don’t you _ever_ ,” she hissed between kisses up his jaw, “tease me like that again.”

            “You loved it,” he whispered back, loosening his bowtie with a free finger.

            “We were in front of people!”

            “Like that’s ever stopped us before.”

            “It was our _wedding._ ”

            “I was always given to understand that consummation,” Stein said, stifling a moan as Marie popped open his collar and began nipping his neck, “was a traditional part of the wedding.”

            “Not at the _table!_ ”

            “We’ve never been conventional people, Marie, and I hardly think now is the time to st—ahh!”

            Marie bit down on his neck and licked over the mark, smirking at Stein’s sudden sharp inhale. She squirmed out of his arms, spun around, and guided him to the edge of the king-size bed, and his hands found his way to her hips, squeezing. Stein took advantage of his position behind to sweep the tiara and veil out of her hair and toss it in the general direction of the nightstand, then pepper her neck with some hard kisses of his own. Marie moaned and pressed back into him.

            “Have…have you been hard this whole time?” she asked, her brain positively swimming with how he was massaging her hips.

            “Mmm,” Stein hummed against her shoulder.

            “Aren’t you supposed to call your doctor if it lasts longer than four to six hours?”

            “I’m my own doctor, Marie,” he smirked, moving one of his hands to cup her ass. “And I think seeing my wife glowing in a rather low-cut wedding dress is plenty good reason for me to last longer than normal.”

            “Is that—ah!—so?”

            “Yes. But I think seeing her out of it would make me feel even better.” Stein bent down and nibbled at the shell of her ear, and Marie pressed even harder against him with a sigh. “Do you agree?”

            “Hmm, maybe,” she teased. She reached behind her and fumbled a little with the first few pearl buttons, but with Stein’s fingers and hers working together, they managed to get the buttons down so her back was exposed. With a deft pull of the zipper, the dress was around her ankles, and she stepped out of the pool of satin and tulle and around again to face Stein. She swore she heard him gasp.

            The bridal lingerie was a complete gamble on her part. Azusa had rolled her eyes when Marie brought her the sketches, but with enough pouting and a one-eyed look that assured her pain would likely be involved if she said now, the Queen of the Committee Chairman was on the phone with the best tailor she could find in Las Vegas that did such detailed work for showgirls and the like. There were no pasties or sequins involved here: just a simple white lace strapless bra and matching panties, along with twin garters above her sheer white stockings. What made the lingerie stand out were the fine, twisting lines of stitches that ran throughout the lace in metallic silver thread. Marie had gone back and forth on this for ages, wringing her hands while waiting for the package to arrive. Would he think it looked tacky? Would he not even notice?

            Stein very clearly _did_ notice. The man didn’t speak much as it was, but right now, he was stunned speechless. She could feel his eyes roaming up and down her curves, drinking in the sight of her. It didn’t feel analytical in the slightest—more like a man who was thirsty and finally found an endless fountain of water before him. The blush crept up and pinked her whole face and chest, and she looked down, actually feeling shy around Stein for the first time.

            “I-I hope you like it,” she mumbled, her eye hidden behind her blond hair.

            She heard a soft thump, followed by another. Two thumps that sounded like shoes being kicked off against the wall. When she looked up again, Stein was inches away from her, shirtless and barefoot, a hand reaching up to caress her cheek.

            “ _Wunderbar_ ,” he sighed, brushing his lips over her forehead before tilting her chin up for a full kiss. There really wasn’t a question anymore of whether Stein could love. It was deep in his bones, and he poured it out through his mouth, slanting and running his tongue along her lower lip. She parted her lips and let him explore, moaning and pressing tighter against him. His hand reached down to the warmth between her legs and ran a finger over her panties. Marie bit down on his lip and made him groan loudly.

            “You _do_ love it,” she said, the biggest self-satisfied grin on her face.

            Stein pushed her gently back on the mattress and climbed over her, his fingers brushing over the slight swell of her belly. It hadn’t been a complete shotgun wedding, but Marie was starting to get a little bit of a baby bump, and there had been so many modifications to her dress to account for her height as it was. He heard her kick her heels off somewhere behind him. He kissed down, down, down to the deep dip between her breasts, his other hand sweeping across her side and around to her back searching for a clasp to undo. Marie smirked and reached down, opening the front of her bra with two fingers and sitting up to shake it off.

            “It’s a front-close bra, Franken,” she explained, but she was pretty sure it fell on deaf ears. Stein took a nipple in his mouth and began to suckle, massaging her other breast with his hand. Marie sunk back down on her elbows and threaded her hand through his silvery hair. Her moans turned into gasps when he nibbled gently on her nipple, a delighted smirk on his face. He let her go with a wet pop and kissed down over her belly, down to the waistband of her panties.

            “ _Erstaunlich_ ,” he breathed against her thigh. Marie’s fingers were still tangled in his hair, and he groaned loudly against her skin when she tugged on his scalp, impatient for him to move faster. He’d gone and fired her up nearly eight hours ago; there was no room for a slow burn now. But Stein was nothing if not meticulous. He preferred to make her wait, bring her up and up to a boil until she spilled over the top in ecstasy. And that’s what he was doing now, inching over the sliver of skin between her panties and garter with feathered kisses, making her squirm and moan under his touch.

            Stein took the delicate lace of her garter between his teeth and started pulling it down her leg, his green eyes gazing softly up at hers the whole time. Marie looked caught somewhere between giggling and moaning in sheer pleasure, both hands pressed to her mouth. He made quick work of her other garter, tossing it out somewhere on the floor behind them before climbing back over her and kissing her deeply. His fingers hooked under the waistband of her panties, ready to give the release she so desperately craved. But only if she wanted it.

            “Marie,” he mumbled against her cheek, “do you want me to?”

            “Yes, _yes_ ,” she practically sobbed out. “Please, God, yes.”

            “You don’t have to call me that anymore. I’m simply your husband now.” He earned himself a few sharp crescent-shaped marks on his shoulders for that snark, but it was worth it. His fingers slipped under the lace and inside her slick heat, biting down on his lip because it felt so _good._ Marie pressed her face into the crook of his neck, mumbling sweet encouragements into his skin like ‘yes,’ ‘there, oh yeah, _there,_ ’ and his name, just his name, over and over. His other arm circled around her back, stroking down her spine while she crooned and he beckoned her closer and closer to the edge. She wrapped her stockinged legs firmly around his torso, bucking into his touch.  

            And then, _just_ as she felt like the dam was going to burst, he pulled his fingers out with a loud pop and slipped them in his mouth, licking them clean. Oh, she could have kicked him for that—he knew damn well what that did to her.

            “Want a taste?” he grinned, the stitches on his facial scar twisting up with the curve of his mouth. Marie rolled her eyes and gladly met his kiss, pressing firmly against his hips with her own. The groan he let out could have woken the entire hotel, and his hand spread wide across her back in surprise.

            “Franken, please,” she said, grinding against him, “it’s your turn. You’re about to burst open the zipper.”

            “Impossible according to the laws of physics,” he gasped.

            “The laws of physics haven’t seen your dick, dear.”

            Well, that stroked his ego enough to earn her more kisses down the neck. He mumbled against her about being patient—she was the Hammer of God, for Christ’s sake, patience was not in her vocabulary—and wormed his way down between her thighs again. She glanced down at him, her thumb rubbing across his scarred cheek. He was looking back up at her, his gaze questioning, his fingers brushing against the soaked lace of her panties.

            “ _Yes_ ,” she nearly hissed out.

            He slipped her panties off her legs and his glasses off of his face so fast she half-wondered if he had magically made them disappear. But once his tongue was pressed against her clit, she wasn’t wondering much of anything other than why she just didn’t have him permanently wear her thighs for earmuffs. He’d probably be very happy to, given how loudly he was moaning into her core and eating her out like he was a starved man. Her legs were hitched up over his broad shoulders and she was crying out, a fist grabbing at the bedsheets and the other tangled in his hair and tugging every time his fingers did something truly orgasmic.

            After he’d finished spelling out her name with his tongue five times on her clit—it could have been more, but she wasn’t sure if she could count to two right now if she were asked—she finally, _finally_ heard the sound of pants unzipping and falling in an undignified heap to the floor. When he stretched up over her again, she could feel his length pressed against her quaking thigh, hard as a diamond.

            She couldn’t really say much other than his name at this point, but their souls were humming in such high resonance that he immediately understood. He lined himself up with her entrance and slid into her smoother than silk, moaning into her mouth. Their fingers twined together while he found something of a rhythm within her. He was panting, and she was calling his name to the heavens, and she was pretty sure they were going to get a noise complaint from whoever was rooming below them, but ask Marie Mjolnir-Stein if she gives a damn. Ask if she cares while her husband is thrusting into her like waves crashing on shore just before a storm. They _are_ a storm, together.

            He finally, finally unloaded inside her, his hair hanging in his face. She reached up and brushed it out of his face after he pulls out and collapses next to her on the mattress.

            “I love you,” she smiled at him, all flushed face and glistening skin.

            “Marie,” he sighed, pulling her tight to his chest. “ _Mein Leben, mein Licht. Ich liebe dich für immer._ I love you, too.”

           

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SteinMarie 2016 prompt, "Bride of Frankenstein."
> 
> If I'm going to hell anyway, I might as well go down there a legend.


End file.
